Red, Blue or Green?
by sabbypandawan
Summary: It is 10 years after the Final Battle. After her failed marriage with Ron, Hermione has found her calling as a counsellor for magical and non-magical people alike. She thinks she is finally happy; until a very unlikely patient walks through her door. Spoiler: It is NOT Draco. :P Disclaimer: I suck at summaries. Rated M for language, sexual content and other adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hello everyone, welcome to my fic "Red, Blue or Green?". Thanks for taking a look :) Yes, there is a meaning behind the title. Colours have meanings, and our preferences say a great deal about our psyche.**

**This is a Dramione, as I ship that couple hard. However, the patient is NOT Draco. Not exactly. It's quite easy to guess, actually, but there is a lot more to find out, so I don't mind if you already know. :) Please consider that I am not a practiced writer of fanfiction, and English isn't my first language (at least not in everyday life - only when it comes to Harry Potter :P) so I would be grateful for constructive criticism. **

**Oh and, I do not own Harry Potter. It is the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, the Goddess of Writing!**

Hermione was sitting in her office, sipping her umpteenth cup of tea. Two spoons of sugar, a third milk and two-thirds English Breakfast, just the way she liked it. Usually, getting comfortable in her workplace wasn't that hard - the room was small, but it had been furnished in accordance to her preferences. Her comfortable red Chintz armchair stood adjacent to a small dark brown coffee table; on the other side of the table stood another chair like hers; in one corner, there was a red beanie bag surrounded by an assortment of cushions for those who preferred a plushier substance under their bum and in the other, a huge drawer for the paperwork she didn't take back home with a phone and a fax machine on top of it. There were several different carpets covering the floor, giving it a patchwork look, all in variations of warm red and orange. The windowsill was adorned with pot plants and the table sported a vase with a beautiful bouquet of a variety of white flowers. A grandfather clock stood near the door so it would be in the patient's back and her line of sight, as recommended by any book she read on furnishing her therapy room. Watching and sipping away, she knew there was someone waiting outside, but she couldn't face them yet. Not after the phone call she had just received. She needed a few minutes to think, and she refused to meet a patient when she was this preoccupied. They deserved better.

After finishing her studies at Hogwarts, Hermione had chosen to enter a new trainee programme with the goal of becoming a counsellor, an opportunity provided by the collaboration of St. Mungo's and the Psychological Institution of London University. The head of the institution was a Squib and therefore knew exactly how his patients could benefit from magical influence and vice versa. In spite of being the eager and ambitious bookworm she was, she had never really been able to fulfil her potential as Ron's wife. He had gone off to become a professional Quidditch player, but as his novelty for being one of the three people mainly responsible for saving the Wizarding World wore off, getting field time became increasingly harder. He simply lacked the talent other players had. Not wanting Hermione to be more successful than him, he... Her thoughts were wandering again. _You do NOT think about this, remember, Hermione?_, she scolded herself. Repression wasn't the healthy method of dealing, as she told her patients day in, day out; however, she just didn't have the time to deal properly. After her divorce, she could finally flourish in her work, and before long she had become one of the most renowned counsellors in the Western Hemisphere.

Which led her back to the phone call. The institution had informed her that the CEO of a very successful company had requested the services of "the best god-damn shrink in that forsaken building" for his 8 year-old son. Marge, her secretary, had also forwarded their boss's message that Hermione "was their best bet" and not to "let this one get away", as he was willing to pay and donate a lot to their cause.

Hermione, however, had second thoughts. She was a pretty great psychologist, she knew that. She could unravel just about anyone. But they weren't talking about an adult, this time the patient would be a child. She had no experience with children whatsoever, and even though her trainee programme prepared her for a scenario where a kid occupied the seat across from her, it had so far been her experience that proved most helpful. Yes, the idea of a challenge tempted her, but the word challenge wasn't something she should use when it came to her field of work. These were people with problems who needed help. And just like that, she knew the answer. Using one hand to unpack her notes on the patient waiting outside and the other to dial her secretary's number, she prayed her decision was the right one. "Marge, kindly fax me all the data you already have on this boy; you know the drill, personal info, his case folder and so on. And send my patient in, please."

About a minute later, a woman with straight black hair and a heavily made-up face walked into the room.

"Hello, Miss Granger."

"Good morning, Mrs-"

"Don't say it!"

"Okay. How have you been since our last session?"

She gave Hermione a withering look. Stopping her from addressing the woman with her husband's last name, of course it was a given how the last couple of days had been. But it was necessary she asked anyway.

"Splen-did", she spat. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I thought we were past that." She looked down and folded her hands in her lap. "Tell me what happened." However, she just sat there, picking at the skin around her fingernails; a nervous habit of hers. Hermione silently offered her a cup of tea and she accepted with a forced smile. After a couple of minutes, she opened her mouth with a deep breath.

"He did it again. I tried to remember what you said, but I got so angry, so hurt, I couldn't remember. I just couldn't."

"Alright... How did you find out?" After the first few meetings with a patient, Hermione tried to take notes only after a session had ended to assure them they had her absolute and undivided attention, so she just sat there, calmly drinking tea with the woman and waiting for her to speak.

"Well, I... you know. I traced him."

Hermione put her cup down and sighed.

"We talked about this. I agree, what he is doing is wrong and unfair to you, but tracing him is not only equally wrong and unfair, it's illegal as well. I understand your need for reassurance, given your past with men, or more specifically, a certain man. And we already established that your... pathological need for control stems from that. Your husband going behind your back doesn't make the healing process any easier on you, and I can only ask again: Why don't you leave him? Why do you put yourself through this, why do you let him reopen wounds that you have been attempting to heal for over 2 years with me?"

"Because I love him." Hermione couldn't count how many times she had heard that sentiment already.

"Do you, though? Or do you love who he could be with you? Given that he changed everything about himself. You knew of his reputation before you married him." Blunt words in order to coax a response out of the patient that would make it possible to assess their progress – or in this case, regress.

"How _dare _you imply I don't love my husband?!"

"You know exactly I didn't mean it like that. What exactly did he do? You've been so much better the last couple of months, I feel like in a matter of days it has all been eradicated."

The woman's lip quivered and her eyes shone. Quickly, Hermione produced a box of tissues and she took one before replying. "He...he cheated on me."

"Yes, as unfortunate as it is, that is nothing new..."

"With my mother, it is." She burst into tears, her make-up smearing and colouring tissue after tissue black and beige. Hermione sat there for the rest of the hour, trying to calm the woman in front of her and comforting her until the sobbing slowly died down.

"I hate to send you out like this. Would you like another appointment tomorrow? It's sooner than normal, but given the circumstance..."

"I'll take it. Gladly. I'll see you tomorrow... Hermione."

"See you tomorrow, Pansy."

As soon as she was out the door, Hermione got up, sighing heavily, and picked up the faxed case file. She flipped it open and when she read the name of the boy, she almost cackled like a madwoman.

_You have got to be KIDDING me, _she thought.

**Sooo, who's the kid? Pretty easy to guess, huh?** **And what exactly is Pansy's problem (aside from a cheating husband)? How has she come to be in Hermione's care? What is Hermione repressing? These and more questions are to be solved, and some more to be asked, in upcoming chapters! Please R&R! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again! Just wanted to add a quick thank you to everyone who has already (!) followed and/or favorited this story! I'm really grateful!**

**And a thank you to my two first reviewers, ****buttercup**** and ****TheAngelOnYourRight****! Glad to hear you enjoy the story, I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you. And if it does, just let me know what it was that bothered you :)**

Scorpius Malfoy.

Her new patient was Scorpius Malfoy, son of none other than Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and as of that moment the richest man in the entire UK. Not to mention her very own and personal childhood tormentor. She briefly considered pulling out of that case after all. Her inexperience with children could cost her more than her clean conscience should she mess this up in any way; Malfoy had always done everything in his power to make her miserable when they were teenagers, and now he had a considerable lot more power. He could give her true hell. It probably wouldn't even take a lot for him to blow his top either; with his temper, it could be sufficient if his son didn't progress fast enough for his liking. She didn't think for a second that he had grown up, or could even _be _a grown-up for any amount of time for his son's sake. She wouldn't even put it past him to have adopted Lucius Malfoy's violent tendencies.

But she could be an adult about this. This child was punished enough having a father like that, she would offer him any consolation she could and help him with whatever problem it was that brought him to her. She opted for going through the rest of the file after lunch and called out her next appointment; spending the next 3 hours with 3 completely different people, talking and listening and helping and solving. She loved every minute of it.

At precisely 12:30pm, she made her way to the little alleyway she usually used to Apparate home. While her boss knew she was a witch, most of the staff and patients didn't. When she helped someone with magic, which she only did as a last resort when she was too scared to send someone off, she never let them know; a Cheering Charm had a much more beneficial long-term-effectiveness when the patient thought they were happy for once all by themselves.

Reappearing in another alley, she walked up to the baby-blue front porch of her childhood home and inserted the key in the birch-coloured door. Upon stepping in, she realized there was a pair of black trainers in her hallway. A smile crept onto her face.

"Theo, I'm home", she called out and pulled off her pumps. A tall man with light brown hair and blue eyes appeared in the doorway.

"Hello, beautiful", he said and pulled her into a tight hug. She sighed and gave into it, resting her head on his chest. "How was your day?"

"It was... fine, I guess. You know I'm not really allowed to talk about it. Rest assured though, I still love my job", she smiled up at him. His eyes crinkled as he returned it and he kissed her lightly on the lips. Her stomach gave an embarrassing grumble at exactly that moment.

"Hungry?"

"Famished", Hermione admitted. She pulled out of the embrace and made her way to the kitchen. A mouth-watering smell escaped when she opened the kitchen door.

"You made food? You?" She sniggered upon seeing his playfully hurt expression.

"Yes, I did! If you don't stop laughing there won't be any for you though!"

This time she outright laughed and sat at the kitchen table, absent-mindedly tracing patterns with her fingertips on the rough surface of the oak wood. "You can't really blame me... It is somewhat unprecedented. Well, what's for lunch?"

"Lasagna." He waved his wand and the casserole dish flew from the counter towards her and landed on the table with a soft thud. With another wave, there appeared two glasses filled with mango ice-tea. They ate the surprisingly good meal in comfortable silence, which allowed her to think about the strange circumstances under which she had found herself with Theodore Nott.

A few months after her divorce with Ron had been finalized, Ginny had insisted the two of them go out together to "celebrate her freedom" and Albus "finally going to kindergarten and making her mornings open to long naps". It had always baffled her how her ex-husband's younger sister could be so passé about her own brother's failed marriage, but in the end she gave in. Just when she had been about to leave the awfully loud club Ginny had dragged her to, Theo had tapped her on the shoulder and they had talked. They had talked through the night and then some and really hit it off, becoming friends by the time they went their separate ways to bed. Hermione had wanted to take things slow, and she was really glad that he consented. In fact, to this day, they were not officially together, but that was precisely what she needed; she needed to _not _put a label on what they had and just enjoy it, because even though she loved her job, it usually made her miss out on the humanly joys everyone seemed to have, and labels brought pressure. Pressure to always know the answers, to always make the right decision, and to bear an inhuman amount of red-headed children, for example.

When they finished, Hermione got up to clean the dishes. Theo wrapped his arms around her from behind and began kissing her neck.

"I have to get back soon...", she murmured.

"How soon?", he breathed and nibbled on her ear-lobe. She suppressed a moan.

"Pretty much now...", she said in a strained voice and pulled away. "Sorry, you know I'd love to stay..."

"It's okay, I know the drill. Paperwork-and-emergency-hours in the afternoon." He smiled and she returned it.

"Exactly. Thanks for understanding. What are you going to do today? How come you're here anyway? Not that I'm complaining."

"I have the day off. If you don't mind, I'll just stay here and wait for you... maybe entertain myself with the various Muggle things you got..."

"Like, say, my TV and maybe my Super Nintendo 64 and Zelda?"

He grinned shamefully. "For example. I have yet to crack the Water Temple, after all!"

She smirked. "Sure, it's fine. I'll be back around 6ish." She stood on her toes and kissed him. "I'll see you then. Don't break anything!"

"I won't, and I can't wait." She walked out the door and apparated back to her office. When she tried to pass her secretary with a "good afternoon", Marge stopped her.

"Miss Granger, the father of the Malfoy boy called. He wants to see you today. I told him you'd call him back when you were back from lunch, the number's on your table."

Hermione blanched. This was too soon, she needed more time to prepare! "Th-thanks, Marge." She hurried off into her office and sat down. The happiness from her lunch with Theo was gone and entirely replaced by an annoyingly distracting nervousness. She picked up Scorpius' medical file with trembling hands and flipped through the pages, but she found nothing that warranted a visit with a shrink. That was odd. Usually, her patients saw a diagnostic psychiatrist before they came to her. Either it was something that only recently came to Malfoy's attention, or he was really good at keeping people quiet. Why he saw the need would be beyond her though, as every doctor and therapist had taken the Hippocratic Oath. All it accomplished was putting her in a pickle, because she really needed the preparation. And she knew that until she got this mystery solved, and found out what she was dealing with and why, she would never be able to concentrate on her paperwork.

So she picked up her phone and dialled the number Marge had written up, her heart beating hard. And then the sound of a voice she hadn't heard since she had taken her NEWTs rang loud and clear in her ear.

"Draco Malfoy here."

"Hello, this is Miss Granger. You called to make an appointment concerning your son."

"Granger?" The surprise was evident in the way he said it, and he was quiet for a moment. No doubt considering whether he wanted his son treated by a Mudblood or something along those lines. "Yeah. Well, I'd like to come in today to go over the necessary paperwork and fill you in on the situation, if that's alright with you." That was... unexpected. His tone was harsh, but the words were nothing if not polite.

"Of course, Sir. What time would be agreeable for you?"

"I could come in right now."

"Oh... okay." Why did I _say _that?! Right now was most certainly _not _okay!

"Fine, see you in 10 minutes." And he had hung up.

Damn.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: W-O-W. So many new followers just with one chapter. And 4 new reviews! Thank you so much! I can't tell you how happy I am, and I hope you like this chapter as much as you seem to have liked the other two. :) Again, constructive criticism is just as welcome as praise!**

Hermione was pacing in her office. It had been at least an hour since he said he'd show up and she'd been too nervous to be productive. It was, plainly put, pissing her off.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. She jumped and scowled at the door.

"Enter!", she called. The door opened and there stood a man in the doorway, but he didn't look anything like the teenager she had seen 9 and a half years ago. Okay, that wasn't true. His hair was still platinum blonde and looked oddly soft, like a chick's feathers. His eyes were still a silvery grey, but in their hardness more like steel. His nose was still straight, his mouth full. But his chin was less pointy and his jaw more angular; he looked more manly, but his face still had not lost it's trade-mark signs for being Draco Malfoy's. His body, however, was not skinny and small anymore. While he was still lean, there were obviously muscles that hadn't been there before, hidden by his tailored black suit; his shoulders were a lot broader than they had been, and he was taller. If she had to guess, she'd say he was about 6'2". He would have looked good – had he been someone else.

"Granger", he simply said and offered his hand.

"Malfoy. You know what 10 minutes means, right?", she replied, shaking his hand nonetheless. He looked down at her mockingly, like she couldn't be more stupid. It was infuriating.

"I have a business to run. Sometimes, actually important things get in the way."

It felt like a slap in the face, and she was more resolved than ever. Nothing should be more important than his son's health! She bit back the retort dying to roll from her tongue; she was going to be the professional, if he wasn't.

"Fine. Sit down, please." He chose her chair, and she almost ground her teeth together. _Just hold it together and politely ask him to take the other one, _she thought.

"I'm sorry, that's actually my chair."

"Really?" He smirked and wriggled a bit. "I like it, it's comfortable."

"I know, it's mine, after all. Please take the one meant for visitors." He gave her a calculating look, got up and sat in the other. Probably thinking it wasn't worth the trouble, and right he was. She usually wouldn't have made a huge fuss either, but she needed to see the clock; it was important that her patients didn't know she was taking looks at it occasionally in order to time the sessions, even though Malfoy wasn't technically a patient.

"Okay, tell me about your son. I didn't find anything in the medical records, which struck me as odd-"

"That is because I arranged for the psychiatric records to not be in there. I am an important man, I didn't want word about my son's condition getting in the wrong people's hands."

"That... actually makes sense."

"I know it does." My god, he was still just as arrogant as he used to be. Didn't parenthood make you more mature? "My son has Selective Mutism. He can't speak to women about his mother's age." She started taking notes.

"Any other groups of people he can't talk to?"

"Blondes. But again, only women. Girls his age, he is actually fine with."

"What's the age bracket of the women?"

"Between 23 and 30."

She looked at him. Was he kidding?

"I'm a 28-year-old woman. How am I supposed to treat him if he can't talk to me?"

"Beats me. But you're the best, so you're going to find a way. You better do." The underlying threat didn't do anything to make her less angry. At least she wasn't nervous anymore.

"Tell me about his mother."

"Her name was Astoria. She was a very pretty woman, and very kind."

"Was?"

"She died. 2 years ago. Have you followed the news?"

Hermione thought for a second.

"Not extensively... I remember reading about her death though, now that you mention it. No specifics, however." He sighed, and for a second he looked vulnerable before his pokerface was back in place.

"The article didn't provide any specifics. She killed herself. After childbirth, she was never... never quite right again. I didn't know she was miserable until it was too late."

That woke a feeling in Hermione she never would have thought she'd have for this man: sympathy. "I am very sorry... It sounds like undetected post-natal depression to me. It would have festered until she developed an actual depression. She was also part of the pureblood high-society, I presume?"

"Yes."

"That would explain why you never noticed, she probably never let it show."

"I guess. What's done is done. But ever since it happened, Scorpius hasn't been right, either." He didn't need to verbalize it for her to understand the underlying meaning; he was scared. Shitless, probably.

"How much does he know of the circumstances?"

"He... he doesn't know it was self-inflicted."

"Okay, that is good. How is your relationship with him?"

He looked hesitant. "It's complicated", he concluded. He was obviously not comfortable opening up about himself. She decided to let it go for now. There would be plenty of opportunities to make him speak.

"Alright. I will take his case, gladly." Like she had a choice. "When will you be able to bring him by? Is there a regular time and date, by any chance?"

"Yes, I already worked it out. Thursday at 2pm usually works fine with me. Will I be going in with him?"

"No, I strongly advise against it. He might not be able to open up with you there. Did you go in with his other therapists?" She looked up at him and startled a little. He suddenly seemed angry. His eyes were even colder than before, and the veins in his neck stood out. His jaw was tense and his hands balled up into fists.

"No, I didn't. I wish I had", he ground out after a minute.

"What happened?"

"You're under that Oath thing, right?"

"Yes."

"His therapist was a man. He tried to... touch him inappropriately."

My jaw dropped. What did he just say?!

"What?! I mean, WHAT?!"

"It's over, he's been taken care of. I trust you don't swing that way, though, so I will stay out of this room, Granger. Don't abuse that trust, or there _will _be repercussions."

She just stared at him wide-eyed. Again, all she could think was _what did he just say?!_

"Excuse me, Malfoy?! Do I look like a child-molester to you?!"

"No, you don't and I already said I trust you in that matter. But that's not saying you aren't one. Plus, he looks an awful lot like me, you know." His anger seemed to dissipate slightly at the last sentence and he gave her that infamous Malfoy smirk. _Oh my God, I am going to fucking kill him. _She spluttered before choking out: "I knew you were still a git, but Merlin's beard, didn't you grow up at all?"

"Just as much as I had to, Granger."

"Obviously not nearly enough, if you can make jokes like that. At your son's expense, no less."

"Humour is the best medicine for me. Believe me, if I didn't joke about the things that pissed me off, I would turn into a killer after all. Very nearly bloody did after that fiasco. And I just love riling you up, but I have to get going. Do you need anything else from me?"

"I really do need you to get out, actually. Be glad I'm a professional; if you had implied something like that outside of this room, you wouldn't know which end of you was which by the time I'd finished hexing you. Imagine how hard eating would be..."

He gave her a patronising smile. "I'm sure of that. See you Thursday."

"Oh joy...", Hermione muttered and Malfoy chuckled before closing the door behind him. Immediately, her posture relaxed and she leaned back, thinking hard.

This would be a tough one. Treating a child was challenge enough, but treating a child that couldn't respond to her? Although, technically, she was supposed to cure him of exactly that. If she really thought about it, maybe she was the best candidate. If she could get him to open up to her, she could help him opening up to others. Yes, she could and would do this. Smiling, she finished her paperwork and went home.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I am SO sorry that it took me so long to update, I am currently doing an internship and had an insanely busy week, and my weekend was mostly spent on catching up on sleep. To make up for it, this chapter is slightly longer than the others, and a mystery is... well, not completely lifted, but mostly hehe :) Also, the next one will be posted tomorrow already!**

Draco left the building and immediately lit a cigarette. He considered returning to work, but if he was frank with himself, he had hired people good enough to assume his and their workload – not that his workload was that huge, he saw to that by delegating every task he didn't feel like doing, which was basically every task. It was a good thing to, as he needed time away to think. His conversation with Granger didn't take as much time as he had assumed. He thought she would pester him about every little detail of his and Scorpius' life. Either she was really incompetent and hadn't thought of them, or she was really great and had sensed his distress and cut him some slack for now. There would be countless opportunities to ask any questions she still had, anyway. He knew it was unreasonable to hire her, seeing as Scorpius wouldn't even be able to talk in her presence, but for some reason he couldn't shake the feeling that she would be perfect for the job. He snorted on the inside while taking another long drag. The girl he hated most in the world, the girl he never even wanted to see again, and she was more or less his last hope. He started walking while taking another drag and stomping out the cigarette. Not really paying attention where he was going, he pulled a typical Malfoy when he bumped into someone and was about to chastise them – and then he realized who it was.

"Theo! Why aren't you at work?"

"Drakey-Poo!" Theo smirked. "I have the day off. What are _you _doing here? This is Muggle London."

"I had business in the area", he said evasively before his eyes fell on what Theo was holding.

"Roses? Roses, buddy? For who, your mum?"

"No, yours actually." His smirk grew wider. It was a sign of their decades of friendship that Draco didn't fire him on the spot and tore him a new one to boot. He had come to expect Theo's cheek and knew there was no maliciousness behind it. "It gets awfully lonely in that huge manor, all alone all day...", he added.

"I get it, I should go see her more often. Seriously, what's wrong with you? You're more annoying than her!" They laughed and made to sit on a bench nearby, but there was a boy already on it. He looked to be 12 or 13 at most.

"You! Move!", Draco barked. The boy jumped up, terrified, and scampered away. While Draco grinned smugly, Theo just shook his head. He had never been able to comprehend why his friend always felt compelled to prove his alpha-male-status, but that's just how he had always been, so he shrugged and sat down next to him. He found a box shoved in his face out of nowhere.

"Want one?"

"Nah, thanks man, I quit a while ago." Draco's eyes widened; there was something he had never expected to come out of Theodore Nott's mouth. There was really only one reason he could think of for that change.

"Who is she?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, roses and now you quit smoking? I know you well enough to know there's a woman behind it." Theo's smile broadened.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The next morning, Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She looked at the man next to her and smiled. Theo was still asleep, his face peaceful and his chest rising and falling as he breathed. His arm was wrapped around her waist, and although she didn't want to disturb him, she really needed to get up. So she leaned in and breathed in his ear.

"Wake-up call."

He slowly opened his eyes and gave her a bedazzled grin.

"I could get used to waking up to this." He pulled back the covers. "And to that, too." He looked up at her again. She yanked the blanket back on top of her. "I'll get cold!"

"I could warm you up..." His fingertips trailed up and down her stomach. She shivered. _Wait. Work. People who need me. _Reluctantly, she took his hand and placed it on the pillow.

"I can't. Not now, maybe when I get home." He sighed and rolled onto his back.

"Fine", was his sulky response.

"Stop being such a baby. You gotta get to work, too, you know." He swatted the argument away with the same hand she had held a second ago. "Nah, Draco is cool with me being late. Or not showing up, unless there's something really important. One of the perks of him being my boss." Hermione shifted uneasily. She had not told Theo about her newest case. She could never go into specifics anyway, but she could at least tell him she had one, maybe that it involved a kid, and how she felt nervous about that. Somehow, she didn't feel comfortable revealing anything about it; maybe because one of his closest friends was involved, maybe because she was scared he would guess. All she knew was that she was tongue-tied beyond the obvious reasons.

"I'll take a shower", she mumbled, sat up and looked around her parents' old bedroom for her towel.

After the war, she had gone to Australia to reverse her parents' memories; the road to forgiveness had been rough and still wasn't entirely behind her, but at some point, when they were absolutely sure they weren't returning to England, they had written off the house to her. She used their old room now; it was big and comfortable with a huge four-poster-bed and the furniture and decoration were held in different shades of red, much like her office. She didn't like the colour because it reminded her of Gryffindor; she liked its warmth and the feeling of welcome it harboured. Other colours didn't provide that for her. Theo had tried to bring some blue into the mix, but she had gone ballistic; she would never openly admit to believing in such a thing, but it felt like it polluted the aura. Like someone was trying to force a part of her out to replace it with something they thought she should rather be.

Shaking herself from her irrational thoughts, she continued on with getting ready for the day. When she got out of the bathroom, she found Theo was using the other, smaller bathroom that used to be hers and decided to make some breakfast for the two of them. She had just set down the pan with eggs and bacon when he entered the kitchen.

"Oh, that smells great!", he said, his eyes lighting up. Hermione sniggered; he loved food, almost as much as Ron, but never stuffed his face so much that he couldn't chew with his mouth closed. It was so... non-disgusting. She liked it.

They ate and chatted about all kinds of things, but mostly work. She let him dominate the conversation, as she would not be able to (and most importantly, didn't want to) divulge. When it was time to leave, they left the house together and Apparated to their respective destinations. Hermione looked at her watch. She still had 20 minutes for her first patient to arrive, and she dearly needed that time for her daily routine of drinking tea and preparing. She did just that, and thus, the morning passed uneventfully. She was a little agitated during lunch, however; her appointment with Pansy was half an hour away and she was scared about what she would see when the woman returned. _God, I hope she does return, _Hermione thought as she settled herself back in her office and waited for 2:30 to arrive. She couldn't have very well just ignored the people that came in after Pansy, and she was sure the other one would have needed a little time to think and calm down anyway, but she was unable to distance herself from her case the way she usually did. It was too close to home.

She was just rearranging the pillows for the third time in five minutes when there was a knock on the door. She quickly sat in her chair and called out for the person to enter.

Pansy was standing in her doorway, her eyes puffy and red, her mascara smeared, and her usually immaculate clothing wrinkly. _This is not a good start._

"Oh, Pansy!", Hermione sighed. "Sit down."

The other woman did just that and looked at Hermione expectantly.

"I'm here", she finally said.

"That you are. I am very grateful for that, I was really scared for you."

"Yeah, sure..." Pansy looked down at her fingernails, the black paint chipped in places.

"What else happened yesterday?"

"Well, I went home and locked myself in our bedroom. I lay there most of the day, just thinking. About what you said, about how I could love him and if I really did."

"And?"

"Well, first I hated myself so much for even thinking it that I... I relapsed." She rolled back her sleeves and Hermione had to stifle a gasp. Her forearms looked like a battlefield. Some cuts were shallow, but most of them were deep gashes that looked like they would reopen at the slightest strain. The area surrounding them was red and swollen; they were obviously infected.

Her pokerface perfectly in place so as not to show the distress and sympathy she felt, she ploughed on with her questions. "How did it make you feel?"

"Well, you know. Something. At all. At some point, when some of them just wouldn't close on their own, I considered whether I should let them bleed, bleed out. But then..." She looked up, hesitance written in her eyes.

"Go on."

"I got angry. Really angry. And not at myself. Oh, myself as well, but only because I let him do this to me. Because I'm too weak to stand up to that son of a bitch and tell him to get lost. And I realized something..."

"Yes?"

"I deserve better. I know I wasn't always the best person in the world, _you_ could sing a song about that, and heaven knows I still have a long way to go, but at least I'm making the effort. At least I try to better myself. He, on the other hand, relies on the fact that his name is famous for being all things good and brave, and is turning into a person much, much worse than I have ever been. I am unhappy. I don't want to be his wife anymore."

As she said all this, her eyes grew increasingly wider. Like she couldn't believe what she was saying, and if the last two years were any indicator, she probably couldn't. She had always so vehemently defended her husband's actions, had always made up excuses and blamed herself for his unfaithfulness. Hermione realised what a huge step even saying the words were, and felt proud of Pansy and herself. She also understood that Pansy still had a way to go until she could put her words into action, so all she said was:

"That's great, Pansy. That's really great! You know you have my absolute support."

"I know, you can't imagine how glad I am for that. And that you can help me go through what you already did. I... I don't want to be his wife anymore", she whispered this time, more to herself than Hermione. Then she looked at her and boldly stated:

"I want to do what you did. I want to find happiness, and I don't want to be a Weasley anymore." As she said this, Pansy flashed her former sister-in-law a smile of relief.

**Whoa, Pansy, a Weasley?! Don't get me wrong, I love all the Weasleys, and I don't really ship Pansy with any of them but for this story, it just felt right to put one of them (oooo, which one is it?!) with her and make him a jerk. :P**

**Oh, and... Reviews are very welcome, people!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, as promised, a super quick update! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Don't forget to follow/favourite and, of course review! It makes me unbelievably happy! :)**

**Oh and to all of you worrying about which Weasley married Pansy... You're right, the only possibilities are Charlie, Percy or George. However, no matter which one it turns out to be (which will be revealed in the next chapter), don't be afraid. He will have his reasons and ultimately be absolved and forgiven. I didn't originally want to tell you this, but it seems that it was quite the bombshell. So, I just want to assure you, I love the Weasleys just as much as you do, and don't plan on butchering the characters J.K.R. created... too much.**

* * *

Time went by in a flash and before Hermione knew what was happening, it was Thursday. At 1pm, and she found herself in a Muggle restaurant in the company of Ginny. She was really glad for the younger woman's presence, as she was nervous beyond belief when she thought of the appointment she had in an hour, and Ginny usually provided a breath of fresh air. It was really incredible, the way she managed to stay so young and jovial despite being the mother of two little and exhausting boys.

"So, how is it going? You look a little pale, Hermione." Damn her and her ability to read her moods. She wanted to be distracted, not confronted!

"Oh, I'm fine. I haven't had a lot of sleep this week, so I'm eager for the weekend to come", Hermione lied smoothly. Well, it wasn't technically a lie, she really had had trouble sleeping. She had spent the last two days working her regular job and the very long nights mostly with Pansy, telling her all about her divorce and how it made her feel, how she coped, and reassuring her.

"Oh, me too! We're taking the boys to the..." Ginny scrunched up her nose. "It rhymes with floo... It's a Muggle thing, with animals, Harry insists we try it."

"The zoo?"

"Exactly!"

"Oh, you'll like it. I loved the zoo as a kid. How is Harry? And the kids?" Hermione was glad she could switch the focus now. Thank God Ginny had believed her. With Theo, she could explain why she never told him about her new case, but with Ginny, it was hard to come up with a reason. _There just really is no need to tell anyone, is there? All they'll do is ask questions I can't answer, _she thought.

The other girl proceeded to tell her all about the going-ons in her life since she had last seen her. Hermione was glad to hear everyone seemed okay; she was too busy for lengthy or exhausting social calls, and that was exactly what she would sign up for if she arranged a meeting with Harry or any of the Weasleys. Ginny understood her situation, so she was never offended when Hermione didn't have a lot of time when they got together, which wasn't exactly true for the others. Harry had once told her that when they met up, he felt like as soon as she got there, she wanted to leave again. So she only went there when she had hours on end to waste away. But the truth was, she missed them a lot. She missed making George feel like an idiot for his jokes while she secretly laughed away at them merrily, she missed Bill trying – and miserably failing – to withstand the force that was Fleur, she missed Arthur's constant questioning about Muggle inventions and Molly's cooking and motherly attitude. None of them had been happy when she divorced Ron, but although it was weird at first, they had all more or less gone back to treating her like a daughter and sister.

Lost in her musings about her former extended family, she didn't notice the time go by and was shocked when her watch read a quarter to two. She jumped up.

"Oh God, I have a patient coming in in 15 minutes! Ginny, I'm so sorry, I have to go!"

Ginny stood up too. "It's okay, you know I don't mind. But you're still coming for dinner this Sunday?" Hermione bit her lip. "Hermione..." the redhead started to reprimand her.

"Yeah, okay, I will! Merlin knows I need to see everyone again. Here, for the meal", she said and put a few bills in Ginny's hand. "I don't have time to wait for the waitress to come back." She gave her a quick hug and ran with a hurried "Bye!" out and into the next empty alley to Apparate to the institution.

When she entered her office, she checked her watch again. 8 minutes to go. She made herself a cup of tea and waited. It felt like she had been sitting there forever when there was finally a knock on the door, and at the same time, it was way too soon.

"Enter!", she called out.

There stood Malfoy again, impeccably dressed as usual, and a little way behind him and to the side, holding on to his hand tightly, a boy anyone with eyes would have immediately recognised as his son. His hair was just as fair as his father's, his features just as perfectly even. He would have looked exactly like the Malfoy Hermione had met 17 years ago, if his mostly grey eyes hadn't been rimmed with a greenish blue. As soon as his gaze fell upon her, those eyes widened in shock and he looked at the older version of himself in disbelief. He was clearly conveying something along the lines of, _what the _hell_, Dad?! _It would have been funny if Hermione hadn't been thinking exactly the same thing, but with another intonation.

_Malfoy is actually a father. I knew it before, but to have the flesh-and-bone-proof standing here in front of me... _She shook herself and smiled at the man and the boy. Malfoy gave her a nod, while Scorpius tried to hide behind him, but he wouldn't have any of it. He dragged him from behind him and walked into the room until they stood directly in front of Hermione.

"Hello, Granger. Scorpius, this is Miss Granger."

"Please, call me Hermione. And hello, Malfoy." She tried the boy with another wide smile, but he just stood there, not even able to blink for his shock.

"Hermione, huh?" Malfoy smirked. "When do you want me to pick him up again, _Hermione_?", he asked, lacing her name with sarcasm.

"Well, _Draco_", she retorted, equally sarcastic, "a session usually lasts 50 minutes. Do you want me to recommend you a place nearby to kill the time?"

He wrinkled his nose. "Thanks, I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself. See you then, Scorp. Be nice." He ruffled his son's hair, ignoring the panicked look he was giving him and the silent pleading not to leave him alone, and swooped out without a second glance.

A tense silence suddenly filled the room.

"So, Scorpius... Why don't you sit down first? Look, there's the chair, and pillows if you want to be more comfortable, but if you prefer there's also the beanie bag... I loved those as a kid", she added as an afterthought. He eyed the plushy seat doubtfully, but made to haul it over to the table anyway. Hermione got up.

"I'll help you, it's quite heavy." He didn't look at her as she moved the armchair and replaced it with the bag, and didn't move until she had sat down again. When he let himself plop on it and wriggled a little, she could have sworn she saw a small smile for the briefest split-second, but it was gone before she could be sure.

"Would you like some tea?", she offered. He shook his head, not glancing at her. "Hot chocolate, perhaps? I'm afraid you're a little young for coffee." Man, her attempts at diffusing the tension sucked. However, he briefly nodded when she mentioned hot chocolate, and she quickly conjured a cup and filled it with a stream from her wand, as she didn't want to leave him alone to go to the coffee machine on the other side of the floor. She held it out to him, and he took it, careful not to touch her hand in the process. Hermione had a feeling he would need a lot of time to become accustomed to the situation, and so they sat in silence for a while before she spoke again.

"So, your father asked me to help you. In order to do that, I might have to ask you a few questions. I know you can't answer, but do you think you can nod or shake your head?"

He didn't react. If it wasn't for the sudden trembling of the cup in his hand, she would have thought he had not heard her. His fear and affliction were obviously immense, and she decided against prying answers to analyse from him yet. Considering her course of action, she realized she had two options: she could either spend the rest of the session in silence, or she could ramble on about unimportant things about her. She chose the latter.

"You know what? You don't have to answer anything if you don't want to. How about I tell you a little about myself?"

He gave the slightest of nods.

"Well, as I already told you, my name is Hermione. I'm as old as your father. In fact, I went to school with him. I met him when we were 11." He looked at her directly for the first time when she said this. She smiled a little. "Oh yeah, I'm a witch. You weren't watching earlier, but I made your hot chocolate with magic. So there's something you don't have to hide from me. I assume you have already shown signs of magic?"

He nodded a little again and returned his gaze to his lap.

"I'll tell you a bit about what arriving at Hogwarts was like for me. You'll be going there not too long from now. I'll start with the Hogwarts Express..."

And she recounted her first ride to school. She told him about her excitement, about how wondrous everything had been to her, and explained how the Sorting worked and how it had been for her, while recanting the horror stories first years told each other about how their House would be determined. She was just describing Gryffindor Tower to him when there was another knock on the door.

"I think that's your Dad. Come in!", she shouted.

"Hello again." Scorpius jumped up and ran to his father. Malfoy put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks, Granger. Same time, next week?" Hermione nodded and he made to leave the room.

"Oh, Malfoy?" He turned back around.

"We will have to arrange another meeting. Just the two of us." He quirked an eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes.

"It is common to have meetings with the parents now and again, too, to discuss their children's progress and such."

"Oh, right. Forgot about that. I'll call you tomorrow, I don't know my schedule by heart."

"Alright." With that, they left, and the tension left Hermione's body.

The first obstacle had been overcome.

* * *

When Draco and Scorpius left the building, his son lost no time to round on him.

"What the hell, Dad?! Do you enjoy torturing me so much?"

"So she wasn't nice?" He smirked. Oh, he would enjoy firing her so much.

"She was, very much, but you know that's not the point! You didn't tell me my new therapist would be someone I can't talk to!" He pouted. "It's embarrassing..."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. Scorpius had just referred to a woman as nice, and not just any woman; _Granger,_ of all people.

"You like her?"

"Yes."

"...Why?"

"She isn't pushy like most people I can't talk to."

Granger? Not pushy? What kind of alternate universe was this?

"And you want to keep seeing her?"

"I think I might like... to try", he ended in a whisper.

_I won't have to force him? One hour and she has made more progress than all of the others combined! _Following that thought, he adopted a scowl. This might mean his gut feeling had been right, and she really was right for the job, but it also meant that he would have to see her. Frequently, even. And that went against all his heartiest wishes.

_Fuck my life._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello again, yet another busy week! Tomorrow is my last day though, and then I'll have a whole week off before I have to return to university, and I plan on dedicating a lot of my time writing and publishing and most importantly, writing in advance, as I have most of the plot mapped out and won't have a lot of time for writing during the week once I go back to uni.**

**Oh and I finally discovered how to make the dividing lines I make in the Word document stay when I copy-paste and publish the chapter! So I will go back and edit that tomorrow.**

**And another thing... I reply to every review I get, just because they make me so very fucking happy, and I think every review deserves a response. But I wanted to say this to all of you collectively. I am only five, well now six, chapters in and I have already received so much positive feedback. I love you guys for it. You can't believe how rewarding it feels to know that people enjoy reading your story as much as you enjoy writing it. So, a great big THANK YOU, and do keep the reviews coming, even if they're critical :)**

**ANYHOO, next chapter!**

* * *

It was Sunday and the sun was beginning to set. Draco was sitting on the porch that belonged to his bedroom and drank a glass of gin on the rocks. Like telephones, this was something he picked up from Muggles. The Wizarding World did not have a large variety of alcoholic beverages to offer, and he had come to prefer gin to any other drink. He quite enjoyed the bitterness that lingered in his mouth and when in one of his broody, self-pitying phases like the one he was going through now, he often thought the taste matched the feeling in his heart that he was trying to drink away. He felt that with every sip the burning in his throat took a little of his sorrow away with it. That in addition with lots and lots of smoking would probably make him happy, but he had to be at least a little responsible. He did not often let it show to other people, but he did care about his son and wanted to be a good father; however sometimes, things just got too much, and he needed some relief. Blaise and Theo often suggested he go see a counsellor, but that was fairly half-hearted and, quite frankly, stupid advice. They knew as well as him that emotional turmoil was not accepted in the social planes they wandered, and much less was getting help. Everything was picture-perfect, or you were worthless, and while he personally didn't give a crap, that didn't stop his mother from doing so. And if there was one other person besides Scorpius he cared more about than himself, it was his mother. She had been the main reason he got married to Astoria so young. He grimaced at the thought. He never really allowed himself to think about her. While his reasons for marrying her had been various, none of them was love. He never felt bad about it until after she had chosen the easy way out of the world, and his anger about her abandoning Scorpius and being left to care for their son all by himself had abated; even though his feelings for her had not been those of a loving husband, he had been quite fond of her, and always let it show when he could. Now, his guilt was crushing him at times, when the thought crept into his head that he could have been nicer, that he could have given her his heart like she had given him his, because she really had deserved no less. At times, he believed perhaps he never had a heart to give. And sometimes, when the grown-up in him won, he remembered that it had neither been her nor his fault that he never loved her, it was a fact beyond either of their control.

"Drake?", someone called out, thus breaking him out of his reverie.

"Theo, Blaise, what's up?", he muttered and got up to greet his friends.

"Just thought we would check up on you, it's not exactly normal for you to go this long without talking to any of us."

"It's been four fucking days. You two need to stop acting like the very annoying and very clingy girlfriend I don't have on _purpose."_

At this, the two other men just laughed and sat down around the table Draco was occupying.

"Maybe a girlfriend would be good for you. Help you be less mopy, and less of a man-whore", Theo said and helped himself to a gin as well.

Draco chuckled humourlessly. "Just because you're whipped doesn't mean everyone wants to be. You never told me who has you all domesticated, by the way, you still owe me an answer."

Blaise shot Theo a puzzled look. "He doesn't know?"

"No, you know how he gets when she's so much as mentioned...", was the other man's mumbled response.

"I'll tell him, then."

"Don't you fucking dare!"

"Just stop acting like a fucking baby, Theodore, and tell me. I can handle it, I promise, there aren't many people I truly hate with a passion."

"Oh, she is one of them, though."

"So long as it's not the Weaslette or Granger. Though I think the Weaslette is a Potty now."

Theo shifted in his chair uncomfortably and refused to meet his eye, and Draco had to control himself not to gasp like a woman at the news.

"No-fucking-way. _Granger? _What in the name of Merlin are you thinking? Are you out of your bloody mind?!"

"Told you he'd take it well", he hissed in Blaise's direction before addressing Draco. "No, I think my mental stability is quite intact, thank you. If you must know, and if it eases your mind, she isn't exactly my girlfriend."

"What, then?"

"We haven't really labelled whatever it is we have. She doesn't want to, and I'm cool with it."

"But you're shagging her? And she got you to stop smoking! You used to go through two packs a day!"

"We quit together, actually."

Astounded at this new bout of information, Draco could do nothing but blink. Not only was Granger able to have fun outside of a proper relationship, but she had also indulged in something as unhealthy and _unreasonable _as cigarettes? What was wrong with the world?

"I think he needs time to process this now, Theo. We'll leave you alone, alright, mate?"

Draco nodded dumbly, not sure of what to say. His thoughts where racing about a million miles an hour, and he was unable to explain why or even what they were about. Blaise stopped in his tracks as he made to move through the glass door and voiced a question that slowed his mind down a little. "How's Scorp?"

"He's fine, thanks. In fact, I should go check up on him."

With a nod, he was gone. Draco, although he had said he would go and see after Scorpius and knew he really should, remained seated and contemplated the girl that had, against all his wishes, come parading into his life. Again.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of her fireplace, looking at it and chewing on her bottom lip. She did _not _want to do this. Not only would Molly not stop pointing out to her how Arthur and her had gone through rough times, too, and come out stronger for it in order to get her to reconsider her decision of leaving Ron, she would see Pansy and her husband and have to pretend not knowing anything. She loved all the Weasleys dearly, Ron being the only exception now, but she could not stop the contempt that arose in her whenever she thought about what he did to his wife. Taking a deep breath and a handful of Floo Powder, she threw it in the flames and stepped in, loudly and clearly stating her destination: "The Burrow!".

As soon as she stepped out of the fireplace there, she was engulfed in a three person hug. The long, fiery-red hair blocking her vision was obviously Ginny's, and she would always recognise Harry by his hugs, as he gave the best ones in the world. She wrapped her arms around her two friends and squeezed back, smiling at the love she continued to receive from them. After a moment, though, she pulled away.

"Hello as well!", she laughed and the two grinned.

"Sorry, we really missed you", Harry admitted sheepishly.

"I get that with you." She gave Ginny a pointed glance, communicating to her that they had seen each other only three days ago.

"Oh, so you don't want me to be happy to see you and hug you? Fine...", the other witch said dragging out the "i" in fine, playfully turning her nose up and huffing. That behaviour elicited another laugh from Hermione. _That girl can be more childish than her kids! _She decided to go along, though.

"Oh no, Ginny, please don't stop loving me!"

Ginny grinned. "Bitch please, I never loved you to begin with."

"That's just a lie. Remember what you told me that one night? The stars were bright and there was a beautiful full moon and no werewolves..."

"I remember, love", Ginny stage-whispered and Harry looked at them oddly. Hermione turned his way.

"That's right, Potter, your wife loves me more than you!"

They began laughing again and, talking merrily, made their way to the dining room where everyone was waiting except...

"Where's Percy and Pansy? Are they not here yet?", Ginny asked.

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER! haha yes I went with Percy, but believe me, it has been planned all along. I could never do this to George or Charlie. Anyway, more about Percy will be revealed in the next chapter, I hope to see you around for that! :) **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: new chapter, yay! I apologize for any mistakes or slip-ups in writing style, it is 2am here and my head is killing me. Please review and follow/favourite :) Make me a happy person? :)**

* * *

Someone jumped off his seat upon Ginny's question and looked at the trio standing in the doorway incredulously.

"What the bloody hell is _she _doing here?!", Ron said through gritted teeth. His hair was longer than the last time Hermione had seen him and looked unkempt, like the newly-grown beard. And she wasn't sure if it wasn't the shirt, but she thought she saw something along the lines of a beer gut – although the rest of his figure was still lanky as always. For a second, she wanted to laugh, but she opted for sarcasm instead.

"Hello to you, too, Ronald. So nice to see you again, it has been way too long", she said. "I see the time away has become you, though." She resisted the urge to point at the newest developments in his appearance. Hermione Granger was by no means a shallow person, but this was her ex-husband, so she thought she had the right to bash him a little. _No need to give the wrong impression, though. Also, the food smells nice, I wouldn't want to let him ruin what could be a perfectly happy and delicious meal._

"Do you actually expect me to be nice, you bi-"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! I will not have this kind of language in this house, especially in present company!" Molly Weasley, too, had stood up. She had regained the slightly plump figure she had had before the war, but it suited her better, in Hermione's opinion. _Some women were just meant to have fuller bodies, _she thought_, _all the while enjoying watching the mother of her former throw daggers at him with her eyes, and then pointedly glancing at Albus and James.

"Also, Hermione is my guest, as are you, so you will do better-"

The door to the dining room opened, cutting Molly's sentence off.

"Sorry I'm late, I just... forgot we were gonna be here", Percy finished lamely.

"That's alright. Where is your wife, though?" Arthur asked, ushering Molly back into her seat and giving Ron a stern look that said "_behave_". Ron huffed and sat back down, not waiting for dinner to start before he picked up a chicken leg and began gnawing on it like a starved man. _Considering I'm not cooking for him anymore, he probably is, _Hermione thought bitterly, but quickly focused her attention on the newest arrival.

"...feeling well", she heard him answer. So Pansy wasn't up to dinner? She resolved to ask her about it at her session the following morning.

Percy chose a seat across from her and one to the left, and when dinner started with everyone digging into Molly's delicious food creations, Hermione found herself pondering the man instead of filling up her stomach like everyone else.

After the war and Fred's death, Percy had undergone a dramatic change. No longer the prim and proper man he once was, he chose to get drunk, party and bed a different girl every night, after the initial shock and grief had slightly subsided and acceptance started rolling in for most of the Weasleys, safe for George. In those years, he made more than one headline with his escapades, and Hermione often suspected that maybe he was trying to compensate and live for himself _and_ Fred. She felt he did the things he thought Fred would consider fun, and no amount of talks or arguments could convince him to admit this to himself and seek help. Then, three years ago, he met Pansy, and they started dating. At first, everyone hoped he would pull through, that maybe she would be able to tame him. And they thought she had succeeded, because Pansy never told anybody else what she told Hermione in the strict confidence that couldn't be broken and Percy was much more careful.

"Hermione, dear, why aren't you eating? I swear, you're becoming thinner every time I see you", Molly voiced her concern for her former daughter-in-law. Hermione quickly speared a piece of roast potato on her fork, ate it, and smiled.

"You're imagining things, Molly. If anything, I've gained a couple of pounds."

Ron said something under his breath and she turned to him. "What was that, Ronald? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch it", she said in her sweetest voice possible. He just glared and continued stuffing his face.

The rest of dinner passed peacefully, George cracking jokes and Arthur spouting yet another insane theory on how electricity travelled through cables, this time claiming it was "probably shrunk birds who pushed it through", because he had recently learned that birds were immune and could under no circumstances be grilled by high voltage. _Right._

However, when she walked by the broom shed to the Apparition point, someone grabbed her and pulled her inside it. She got ready to claw her way out of there and rip someone's eyes out if necessary, and almost relaxed when she noticed the red head; when she realized it was Ron, though, she got back into fighting position immediately, and grabbed her wand in the pocket of her trousers.

"What the fuck do you want, Ron?", she said bluntly. She didn't usually curse, but he just brought out that side in her.

"Well, _why _the hell did you come today?"

"Because your family and Harry insisted, and quite frankly, I missed everyone and wanted to see them again."

"You broke the bond with my family when you broke the one with me."

"I bet your mother and sister would disagree, and your brothers probably as well. You're just pissed off because I get invited, whereas you always invite yourself, and they accept you only because you're blood-kin. I can't help the fact that I'm cooler than you and they like me better, though, so fucking leave me alone."

His face was turning that unattractive puce-colour again and she gave him her most arrogant smirk, pleased she had successfully pissed him off – until he grabbed her hard and shoved her into the wall.

"You little bitch", he whispered. "_Nobody _likes you. We all just take pity on you. Hell, I married you out of pity. So don't go all high and mighty on me. We both know how easily you break." His mouth had turned into a vicious grin.

"Are you threatening me, you little piece of shit?" She was scared as her hand no longer rested on her wand, and he was considerably stronger than her, but she would be damned before she let it on.

"No. You're not worth the trouble. You're neither pretty nor valuable enough." With that, he let her go and forcefully shoved her out of the shed.

"Oh, and you're fat, too. I wonder how that new little boy-toy of yours puts up with it, really."

She wanted to ignore him, but she rounded on him instead, her temper getting the best of her.

"Listen here, you moronic bastard. You're an adult. Act like one. Pushing people around and throwing childish insults at them is really your only method of communicating anything, isn't it? And, of course, to make you feel better about the fact that you're a talentless loser who will never amount to anything, ever. And if you ever so much as look at me again, I will tell Kingsley that you violated the conditions, and imagine how much fun that would be. Good fucking bye." With this, she stormed away, apparated home and gave in to the angry tears which wanted to be spilled before she imploded in rage.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I am so, SO sorry. I promise, I did NOT forget. But as I mentioned before, the new semester started, and the week I had off was spent catching up on the work I missed when I was doing my internship, since it was a lot more than I anticipated. Then there was work because I need money for the coming semesters I'll be studying in Dublin, and current coursework (which is ENORMOUS, btw) and I have to do two big projects on top of 6 exams and... argh. But I missed writing this all the time.**

**I'm also sorry I didn't respond to the reviews for Chapter 7, I just didn't find the time and as it's 11:35pm here, I won't be able to now either. This time, as an exception, I'll just thank you all as a whole for the amazing response I'm getting from you for this story. I really hope you enjoy this chapter and I'm not disappointing you after the long wait.**

**Oh, and, I toned it down for now (I want to save the heavier stuff for later), but I never wrote anything like I did below before, so let me know what you think. Of that part and in general. :) You'll know what I mean. :D**

* * *

The door closed behind her with a loud bang, and she heard the distinct shuffle of feet hurrying to where she was standing.

"Oh God", Theo whispered when he took one look at her face and took her into his arms. "What _happened_?"

She put her head on his chest and just let go, little stains of dark blue appearing on his light blue shirt where a new wave of tears spilled onto it. At the sight, sobs started to rake her body.

"Did he do anything? Do I have to kill him? Because, you know, screw my life-long probation for teenage war crimes and all that shit." She gave a watery chuckle and took a deep calming breath, sending a prayer to every deity she knew that her voice wouldn't quaver.

"He didn't touch me, if that's what you think. No, he was just being his usual crude self. I can't honestly tell why I'm crying, whether I'm sad or angry or scared. It's probably a mix of all of them, with a good portion of hurt, although that's probably covered by anger, since it's a second-hand-emotion. Sorry for ruining your shirt." She pulled away and wrapped her arms around herself, fighting back the hotness pressing against her eyes from behind. He just stared at her.

"Wow. You just analysed the reason why you're crying." Another humourless laugh escaped Hermione's mouth.

"Yeah, I've been known to do that. You can't really be a counsellor and not counsel yourself now and again. It becomes a reflex."

Theo nodded and awkwardly stood in the hallway, one arm reaching towards her, but she turned to walk into the kitchen and busy herself with the kettle.

"Tea?", she mumbled.

"Yeah", was his quiet answer. The room was deadly quiet for a while, until she went to grab some tea bags from a cupboard overhead and suddenly felt two hands gripping her hips tightly and a warm body flush against her back.

"That dress...", he murmured against the skin on her neck and started nipping at it lightly. For a second, she tried to remember what she wore that afternoon, but Theo's lips wandered up to her jaw and then her ear, breathing hot air on them in the process, and she honestly couldn't. So instead, she just rolled her head to the side to allow him better access and sighed contentedly. He pulled away and she turned around and pouted, which caused him to capture her lips in a hungry kiss. Her hands were around his neck and his on her butt as their lips moved together for a moment; she darted out her tongue and licked around his bottom lip, and he willingly granted her entrance. She loved this feeling of control, of dominance. It empowered her and gave her a great boost of energy, which caused her to move her hands from his neck to his chest and give him a little push. He stumbled back a few paces with a confused expression, and she quickly closed the gap between them and pushed him another foot and into one of the kitchen chairs, where she settled on his lap and resumed their clash of tongues and teeth and lips. Her hands wandered under his shirt as his found their way beneath her dress, and he softly caressed her skin as she lightly scratched on his, making him groan. Hermione grinned against his lips and quickly pulled off his light blue shirt, revealing the lightly tanned skin and very defined muscles of his torso.

"That shirt really brings out your eyes, but right now, I kind of want to look at something else", she whispered into his ear and started nibbling at it. Another groan escaped Theo's mouth and he was pulling her dress up at the hem to bunch around her waist. A look and a nod, and he pulled it off all the way. _A navy mini-dress, that's it!_, she thought before he pulled the brown satin bra strap down her left arm and started biting her shoulder. She gasped as his teeth came down hard, and once more when he flicked his tongue out to sooth the slightly reddened skin. He freed one of her breasts from the bra cup and started massaging it with one hand, the other on her lower back, while steadily biting and licking his way up. When he reached the point where her neck and shoulder met, her quiet whimpers gave way for a loud moan and she grabbed a fistful of his hair to yank his lips to hers for another fiery kiss. Straddling him now, she felt the painfully hard bulge in his jeans and pulled her head back a little.

"You know, you're really taking advantage of me in my vulnerable state here", she whispered breathlessly. His chuckle and his responding voice were low and gruff.

"Left over from my days as an untameable badass, I guess."

"Way to heighten the mood", she laughed quietly, taking in how wide his pupils were with the lust they both felt as their hands traced each other's bodies.

"Well, yeah, that's why you love me."

Immediately, she felt herself tense up. She knew he meant it as a joke, but it all felt more intimate and less physical all of a sudden, and she didn't like it. He noticed the shift in her posture.

"You know I didn't... I know what this is."

"Yeah... And yet." Hermione disentangled her legs from around his and got up, picking her dress off the kitchen floor and tossing Theo his shirt. "You should... you should go. I'll see you soon."

He pulled it on and stood as well. "Yeah, whatever." His eyes were focussing on anything but her and she put a hand on his arm.

"Theo, I'm-"

"It's fine." Blue eyes met brown, and he threw an obviously forced smile her way. "Owl me. Or call me. Whatever", he repeated, and went out the door, in Hermione's opinion, as fast as he could without running.

* * *

"So why didn't you show up last night?"

Pansy's usual attire which was, quite frankly, whorish, had been replaced by sweats and a jumper that looked like it had come out of an old lady's closet who had a knack for dressing like a toddler. Her hair just hung there and she wasn't wearing any make-up. It was drastic, and Hermione had to fight the urge to jump in shock. She chose not to comment on it, though, as she watched the woman squirm in her seat with downcast eyes.

"I don't know."

"Come on, Pansy. I'd hate to see the relationship we've established regress because you're struggling. It should be a reason for it to progress even further."

A sigh escaped the raven-haired girl, and really, she looked just like a little girl at that moment. The clothes, the expression, and she was practically radiating "insecure mess".

"I'm... I'm really not sure. I found out about another slut and didn't really feel like acting like I'm fine for Molly and Arthur, since they will most likely be hating me pretty soon anyway."

"No, they won't, because he's in the wrong, not you. Look at me. I'll admit, it was strained and awkward at first, but it got better. I feel really loved when I go there."

"Yet you barely do."

"Yeah, but that's not because of them, and also, we're on you."

Pansy gave an unlady-like snort. "Then don't mention how it worked out for you. You know very well that they loved you before you even were with their son, whereas I'm barely tolerated even now, and only because I'm married to theirs. Really, I think..." Her breath hitched and she suddenly found her shoes very interesting again.

"Don't close off now. What do you think?", Hermione asked sympathetically, while mentally scolding herself for talking about her own life. If this were a private meeting, it would have been fine, but as this was a professional appointment, it was highly inappropriate for her to mention anything personal.

Pansy took a breath. Exhaled. Repeated the motion several times before she spoke.

"I'm trying to distance myself... because..." She let the sentence hang there, and Hermione decided to help her.

"Because you love them, don't you?", she provided with a soft voice.

The other woman nodded and her face scrunched up as if she were in a great deal of pain.

"It's okay...", Hermione continued talking quietly.

"It's just, they're like the parents I always wanted and never had. So nice and caring and easy-going, despite Molly's fits now and again. You know how my real parents were."

Hermione nodded, remembering one of her very first sessions with Pansy where they got to talking about her horrendous childhood and teenage years.

"Can we just talk about something else, something light, maybe? I need a little time to deal with it myself..." Considering pressing the matter, she decided against it and nodded again.

"Sure. Tell me where you got that sweater."

Pansy laughed. "It's horrible, isn't it? I've been dressing like the women he sleeps around with for so long in order to please him, I guess I lost any sense of fashion."

"Obviously not, since you know it's hideous."

She grinned. "Yeah, but I kinda like it. It's comfortable. I've forgotten that clothes can have that quality. And I guess I want to make a big point out of showing him that I'm not going to be his _slave _anymore."

"Good for you. You know, I heard reindeer motives were making a comeback anyway..."

They continued talking lightly about everything and nothing, and Hermione could sense Pansy really needed that, so she didn't try to stop it to push other subjects for now. When she left, she had an almost genuine smile on her face as they agreed to meet again on Friday morning.

Just as Hermione was preparing a cup of coffee, her phone vibrated. The display showed an unknown number. After brief contemplation, she decided to answer.

"Granger", came an awfully familiar voice on the other end.

"Malfoy? Where the hell did you get my private number?" She could practically hear his smirk when he spoke next.

"Well, I'm a powerful man with sources."

"So Theo gave it to you", she countered and if his short silence was any indication, she was right. A small victorious flame flickered in her chest before it was put out by the thought of Theo, and she almost didn't catch what Malfoy said next.

"About that parent-talk-thing... I'm usually busy during the day, and don't really want to spend any of my evenings with you, so how about we do it at lunch?"

"Wow, so very charming. But yes, lunch is fine. When?"

"How about Friday at noon? Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron, we're going to a place you probably don't know."

She very much resented the sound of that.

"Try me."

"The Three Chimneys."

Damn, she really didn't know it. No reason to let him know, though.

"Alright. Is Scorpius' appointment on Thursday still standing?"

"Yes. See you then." Could he possibly sound more disgusted with the idea?

"Bye."

He had already hung up.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:**** First things first. I am SO, so, sooo incredibly sorry for the long wait and the fact that this chapter is so short. I wanted it to be lengthier, but I felt the end was a good one and I'll get to work on the next one rightaway - and it will be longer. It will probably be up by Friday night/Saturday morning.**

**I promise I'll try to update once a week from now on. There was a whole shitstorm of stuff coming up in my life lately. Whatever, not important. But just know - there was a reason I didn't update in so long. I was busy, and whenever I did have some free time on my hands, I was usually not in the right frame of mind to write.**

**And I also wanted to take this opportunity to thank you for your continued support. It means the world to me to know I am not only writing this for myself, but that others actually enjoy the things my weird brain comes up with. :) Soooo... keep the follows and favourites and of course the reviews coming, I am open to any kind of criticism, good or bad (just please, not insulting).**

* * *

Thursday morning rolled around faster than Hermione would have liked. She supposed it was her own fault; with Theo currently ignoring her, she had little in the distraction department and decided to dive into work. For a while now, she had had the urge to write essays about every patient, outlining their starting point and progress in her sessions to keep in their records. Most of her patient were pretty standard cases, if such a thing existed, so they wouldn't take too long; they were relatively easy to grasp for someone who had a handle as good as her on other people's emotions and psyche. However, they were numerous, so she found herself sitting up into the wee hours of the night, taking notes and creating rough drafts. So it was no wonder that when she woke up to the sound of an increasingly loud alarm, she realised she had wound up falling asleep on the soft velvety material of the green couch her parents had bought the summer before her supposed 7th year. She looked around the room groggily, slowly taking in her surroundings. Most of the decoration had drastically changed in the 9 years since she had set up permanent residency in her childhood home alone. One of the first things she did was take down the embarrassing elementary school pictures that littered the walls of the living room, and replaced them with pictures of her parents and friends, sometimes with her in them, sometimes without. She had also given away most of the plants her mother had adored so much to Neville, since one thing Hermione Granger was _not _good at was taking care of those. He had been ecstatic; as a pure-blood, he had only rarely come in contact with plants that didn't have some magical function. She smiled at the thought of the boy; because that was what he would always be to Hermione, no matter how many Horcrux-infested snakes he slew. She would always see him as the round-faced kid she had been forced to Body-Bind. She decided to owl him when she got home and went for a long, cold and refreshing shower before facing the day.

The morning flew by with Hermione anxiously awaiting her youngest patient and his snarky father. She couldn't quite pinpoint why that was; she kind of doubted it was only the pressure that came from such an influential man having a child with any kind of needs. Although, frankly, that would be enough to send most people packing. Not Hermione Granger though. She had faced too much to be intimidated by a man she had proven wrong in his beliefs in every possible way growing up, just by being as strong as she was. She just wished that would make it any better; if anything, that fact made the inexplicable queasiness in her stomach even more unsettling.

The clock had barely chimed two o'clock when there was a knock on the door and the little fair-haired boy entered, looking at his therapist and shuffling his feet timidly. Hermione gave him a warm, welcoming smile to signal him that it was okay to enter. She had previously moved the beanie bag so it was once again in the place her patients' chair usually occupied, and a small smile crossed Scorpius' face. It was gone as soon as it appeared and replaced by a horrifically nervous expression.

"It's okay", Hermione spoke in a soft voice. "What are you scared of?"

Scorpius just stared at the floor between his feet, which were dangling a few inches off the carpeted floor. Hermione contemplated for a second before she had an idea of what was going on.

"Did the other therapists ever try to force you to speak? To people you have problems speaking with, I mean."

His head made a little motion. It was an almost imperceptible nod. The woman suppressed a smile.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I won't do that. You just take your time."

He looked up for the fraction of a second and smiled briefly. _Progress._

"Should we just start off where we left, then?" He nodded again, and she went into full-story mode. She told him about the time in 2nd year, when his father had called her a Mudblood for the first time, naturally glossing over the specifics and not revealing that he had said a bad word to her. By the time she came around to the part of Ron's curse backfiring and throwing up slugs, he actually chuckled. She knew it wasn't much, but he had actually made a sound around her and she had to contain the beam threatening to split up her face. Her eyes fell on the clock behind his head.

"Oh no, I think we're out of time. More stories next week?"

He nodded again, with a certain glint in his eyes and this time, she couldn't help but smile.

"Great. Now, let's see if your Dad is here yet."

The second she finished the sentence, there was another knock on the door.

"Speak of the devil", she breathed as a tall man with just as fair a head as his son's entered unceremoniously.

"Hello, Granger", he said smoothly and held his hand out for Scorpius. The boy skipped to his side and took it immediately. "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't dress too sloppy, I will most likely be seen with you and I don't want to be embarrassed."

"Sloppy?", she hissed in response.

"Like that", he answered coolly and gestured to her attire, today composed of a pair of black slightly loose-fitting jeans and a navy blouse.

And with that, the infuriating figure of Draco Malfoy disappeared.

* * *

Draco swiftly made his way out of the building and into an empty alleyway, his grip on Scorpius' hand firm but gentle.

"How did it go, buddy?", he asked as soon as they exited the compressing space Apparition created.

"It was okay." The boy gave his father a radiant smile. "She is really nice, not like the others. She doesn't force me to do anything. She just tells me school stories."

At that, Draco quirked an eyebrow. He didn't pay Granger to babble, he paid her to get his son to open his mouth in her presence. But what was more...

"What kind of stories?"

"Oh, last time just about the Sorting at Hogwarts, and today..." A mischievous grin lit up his face again.

"Yes?"

"Well, she told me about something that happened in your 2nd year. She said you made her friend really angry and he tried to curse you..."

Malfoy couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled out of his mouth.

"Oh yeah, that was a good moment."

"I... I laughed." The grin melted off his face instantly. Draco watched his son with a furrowed brow.

"Well, it is funny."

"Yeah but I laughed... in front of her. I didn't... notice when I..." He trailed off, panic sneaking its way into his widening eyes. The tall blonde instantly fell on his knees in front of the smaller version of himself, and gripped his shoulders.

"Hey, Scorp, listen to me. Listen, okay? It's okay, you can laugh in front of her."

His baby was crying now. A mixture of fury and agony shot through him at the sight and sound. He forced himself into control when the child's shoulders started shaking violently with sobs.

"Calm down, okay? Calm down and tell me what's so bad." He pulled him into a tight hug.

"M...Mummy... She always said", he hiccuped and started shaking again.

"Is it because Mum always said she liked your laugh?"

He almost didn't hear the choked out confirmation in between sobs. Draco started rubbing his son's back in soothing circles.

"It's alright, it's alright..."

He cooed the words softly into Scorpius' ear until he felt his body relax and eventually go limp in his arms. He had fallen asleep. Relieved, Draco picked him up and tucked him into bed.

No matter how much he despised her, he vowed to himself to tell Granger about what had happened the next day. He would do anything to make his boy well again.


	10. Chapter 10

******A/N: Sorry for the delay, I write when I can. Sarahostervig suggested I write in advance, and honestly, I try, but my life has been crazy for ages, my schedule is seriously overwhelming. I wish I could write more, it is a passion of mine and a great way to vent for me. I'll try updating at least once a week from now on, though, as my workload should ease up pretty soon. :)**

**Sorry for any mistakes, I'll go back and edit tomorrow. It's 3:25am here. Enjoy. :) coughreviewcoughf&fcough... :D**

* * *

Draco was waiting outside the Leaky Cauldron, mentally checking off the things he had to take care of that day and smoking one cigarette after the other, when she walked up to him. He didn't notice her arrival at first, until that annoyingly grating voice spoke up.

"Wow, you smoke almost as much as I used to." He whipped around and had to tense the muscles in his jaw to keep it from dropping. It was like the Yule Ball all over again.

Hermione Granger stood in front of him, and boy, did she look good.

She was wearing a bright orange coat which wasn't buttoned up, so it revealed a navy dress which clung to her chest and stomach and flared out in folds at the hips. The neckline wasn't low-cut, but the material changed just above her bust into a silky, see-through white fabric with navy polka dots scattered across it. To top it off, she had on a white cardigan and navy wedge heels with white dots. It all complemented her skin tone perfectly, and the honey colour in hair, which was done up in a deliberately messy bun, was accentuated as well as her eyes.

She looked... _beautiful. _He shuddered internally just for thinking the word.

Meanwhile, Hermione was just looking at him and clearly thinking, _what the hell is his problem? _She snapped her fingers in front of his face after unsuccessfully calling his name to get his attention back. His eyes went back into focus.

"Malfoy, can we go now, please? You might not think so, because your world revolves around you, but I've got things to do."

"Sh-sure...", he mumbled. No snarky remark? Hermione was definitely intrigued.

They stood there awkwardly for a minute, Hermione's curiosity growing with every passing second and eventually clearing her throat.

"What? Oh yeah..." He grabbed her forearm, a lot gentler than she would have expected, and turned. They landed on a street with a familiar-looking shore in the distance. She couldn't for the life of her pinpoint their exact location.

"Where are we?"

"Scottland", he replied without bite – or looking at her. _This is getting eerie_, Hermione thought.

"Oh I knew it! Isle of Skye, right?" He nodded.

_Let's try this again... _"Okay, where to?" He pointed to a little restaurant a few yards away and they walked in silence. Her breath caught when they entered. The interior was gorgeous. The walls were made of a sort of uneven stone in brown-variations and adorned with electric torches and beautiful paintings, the ceiling was white with dark brown beams, the chairs and tables were equally brown and glossy. It all just looked so perfectly _classy_. It figured someone like Malfoy would enjoy eating there.

And he probably did so quite frequently, because she hadn't even had the time to look around properly before a blonde tall waitress walked brusquely towards them and with a "Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy. Table for two today?", took their coats and put them on a couple of hangers. Then she turned back around to them.

"My name is Rebecca and I will be your waitress today. Please, let me show you to your table."

They sat and ordered, Malfoy "his usual" and Hermione some sort of baked fish with something or other – even the names sounded much too fancy for her taste, so she chose to pick the one which was the least complicated.

"So...", she began. "How were things after you left yesterday?" It was best to just get straight to the point, she decided. Malfoy was acting really weird and it made her oddly uncomfortable, she wanted to get away as soon as possible.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. He had a breakdown." Maybe that was why he was so distracted. Then the meaning of his words caught up to her.

"Wait, what? Why?"

"I'm not sure. He apparently realized he made a noise in front of you, and he freaked out."

She considered this for a while. She thought he had made progress with her, and really he had. Her approach was a good one, she firmly believed that. But he still didn't trust her; she never expected him to after two sessions, that would have been truly miraculous. Absorbed in her musings, she didn't realize Malfoy was talking or even that their food had been brought to them until he nudged her lightly in the shoulder.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Where did you zone out to?""

_Like he's one to talk._

"I was merely contemplating what you told me right now. This is hard to figure out since he can't talk to me... Did he give you any reason at all? Mentioned anything?"

"If you had been listening, you'd know." _Wow,_ Hermione marvelled, _so mature._

"Then don't help me help your son. It's actually not really my problem."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Merlin, freak out, would you? It was a joke. And it's really your problem now, too, because I employed you, and when Draco Malfoy tells you to do something, you do it." Hermione raised an eyebrow. That was more like him.

"First of all, you are nothing and will never be anything but the little boy who pissed himself in the Forbidden Forest that one night we went out there with Hagrid."

"Freaking You-Know-Who was there!"

"Oh you know you weren't even there for that anymore. And you didn't know it was him either. I wouldn't be surprised if y- wait a second."

Malfoy looked down at his lobster ("_of course that would be his usual")_ and a tinge of pink appeared on the smooth pale skin of his high cheekbones. Hermione gasped.

"No. Freaking. Way. You did not actually...?!"

"I recommend you shut up and eat, I already pay enough for nothing by paying you", he said in a shaky voice. She tried to keep her face solemn, or the laugh that was building inside of her from bubbling out of her mouth, but then she opened her mouth to reply that she was a) doing a fine job so far and b) she would rather bury herself alive than let him pay her meal – and it came shooting out of her.

"OH MY GOD! YOU PISSED YOUR PANTS!", she cried with mirth.

"Will you shut your mouth, woman? Merlin's pants, you think being beautiful gives you the right to do anything, don't you?"

Hermione instantly stopped laughing and stared at him in shock. Then, Draco's eyes widened as he realized his mistake.

"Oh, shit. Fuck, I didn't mean that. Women in general are like that, you know? Because all women..." He started rambling, hoping against all odds that she would believe him. All she did though was narrow her eyes at his generalization of women and "their" behaviour, before she grinned and shook her head.

"Listen, I didn't hear anything, okay? This is about your kid, not our... _differences_, or anything else", she offered, because – well, it was true.

"Agreed. How has he been in those two sessions, anyway?" She briefly described Scorpius' distant behaviour and shyness, which kind of lightened for split-seconds at certain points made or prospects.

"Any idea on how to move forward, to make him... really progress?" In that moment, he really looked like just another young father, worried sick about his son. It was endearing.

_Endearing? Really?! What the hell, Hermione?_

"I have one. Since he can't talk to me, and I won't force him to, maybe you could act as sort of an ambassador between us. I'll write you a list of questions you could ask in my stead, and instructions of how and when to best pose them..." She trailed off to let the idea sink in. It only took a second before Malfoy nodded.

"Anything I can do, I will do. I... never want to see him like that again. He's too young to have already dealt with so much, and he deserves for it to be over."

A soft smile stole its way on Hermione's lips before she could stop it. Fortunately, she did have enough restraint to quell the sudden urge to take his hand. They politely bid each other goodbye, Hermione promising to owl him as soon as she could, and made their way to their respective destinations.

* * *

As soon as he was in his office, Draco called Blaise in. The man entered and upon seeing his best friend's horrified expression, instantly threw a "What happened?!" at him.

"Something truly, purely and ineffable terrible."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I know, I know, once a week my ass. I'm incredibly sorry. If you want an explanation, I'll give you one at the end of this chapter.**

**For now... enjoy! :) review please, or else Scorpius will NEEEVER talk to Hermione hehehe (^w^)**

**Seriously, I don't know what to think of this chapter, so please tell me your thoughts!**

* * *

His week was horrible.

There was just no way to sugarcoat it. First his confusing encounter with Granger, then his conversation with Blaise which went along the lines of "So, you got the hots for Hermione? Everyone's known that since Fourth Year, the sexual tension between you two was always so thick you could cut it with a knife, so what else is new?", followed by alternating between teasing his best friend and telling him "to get it", and guilt-tripping him because of Theo. Then there was a huge debacle because one of his stupid-as-fuck-employees made a mistake and paid a supplier 100,000 Galleons instead of 1000 as planned because he set a comma wrong and said supplier not feeling obliged to pay anything back.

Oh, and his son really liked Granger and actually asked him not to find him another counselor for a while.

And then...

_There was skin, so much skin, his fingers drawing all over it, exploring hungrily. Soft hands were gripping at him, one tangled in his hair and the other pulling his dress shirt from his pants, its fingertips leaving a hot trail across his back. The mouth on his was even softer and hot, moving and parting his lips. A wet velvety tongue licked at his bottom lip before dipping in and touching his own, and he couldn't do anything but groan and tighten his grip on the creature on top of him. The hands were suddenly ripping at the front of his shirt, successfully opening it and scattering the popped buttons God only knows where. The next thing to go was his belt and zipper, and he noticed how painfully hard he was when he sighed at the lessened pressure. Then the lips left his own to suck at his neck, a jolt of electricity coursing down his spine and right to his groin. The person –it was definitely a woman judging by the curves of her tits he was currently feeling up- was searching and seemed to have found her destination when teeth dragged across his pulse point and elicited another groan from him, and then a near-animalistic growl as she bit down hard and her tongue soothed the reddened spot. Her fingertips were dragging across his chest and pinched his nipples lightly, rolling them between her fingers and he gasped at another jolt. Their was a wet sensation spreading over his torso as she licked between his clavicles and down his chest while her hand dipped under the elastic of his boxers and..._

"Hermione!", he gasped himself awake and shot up into a sitting position on his bed, his blanket tangled around him in a way that suggested he had been writhing around quite a bit. He looked, fairly disoriented, around his majestic room for the witch and, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, came to the realization that it had only been a dream. Flopping back down on his bed and trying to ignore the throbbing in his boxers, he decided that he would really have to think about this new-found attraction to Her-Granger. He refused to acknowledge she had a first name, even if he had been moaning it in his sleep not two minutes ago. He couldn't control his dreams, but he could control what he said and thought in his moments of consciousness.

If it had only been about him, he would just cut her out of his life again, but it wasn't only about him anymore. He had a kid who had only 2 days ago come out of her office and specifically asked not to be moved and continue his sessions with her. And as much as he hated to admit it, he could actually already see a change in Scorpius' behaviour. His eyes took on a glint that was hard to describe whenever he came to pick him up after a session with Herm-Granger, and even if it was gone by the next day, it was improvement. If he didn't hate the witch so damn much, he would be impressed.

But did he hate her?

She irritated him, sure. At least, the Granger from school used to irritate him to no end. It was hard to accept that she may be a different person now, one because she sure as hell would never accept the same about him, and two, because she had really never shown any signs of being different...

Well, he again had to question those sentiments. He had on more than one occasion been surprised by her behaviour, whether it was something he only knew second-hand from Theo or witnessing something or the other.

Her appearance Friday a week ago and his reaction to it had certainly be surprising.

He groaned again and threw his arm across his eyes, shutting them tight and trying to come to a solution, or a conclusion, or at least _something. _He was attracted to her; no matter how disgusting that was supposed to be, it was a fact. Did he like her? He didn't know and decided on that spot that he wouldn't find out unless he talked to someone, someone who wouldn't judge him harshly and was calm and collected, who read him better than he did himself sometimes.

It was time to bring in reinforcements in the form of his other, _secret _best friend.

Little did he know, a witch across the country awoke from a similar dream, with similar thoughts and the exact same idea.

* * *

Ginny Potter, formerly Weasley, was a heavy sleeper. That was a widely known fact, and it was even worse since she entered the second trimester of her third pregnancy. Harry often debated with himself, when trying to wake her up, if she could sleep through a Howler being set off right next to her head, but as curious as he was, he was too scared to try.

Because another thing Ginny Potter was, was a fighter, and a scary one at that. She had fire in her not unlike the vibrant colour of her hair. And one could never really tell how she might react when angered, whether the fire would break out of her, ablazing, or quietly and unbeknownst to the poor person who had called her wrath upon themselves burned them alive.

But when she woke up and looked up to find two obviously distressed owls tapping on the window, and read the letters, it became apparent that her fire wasn't restricted to become alive when she was angry; it could manifest itself in fierce compassion as well.

She read the letter with the familiar neat script, which was almost calligraphy, first.

_Good morning, Ginny!_

_Hope you and Harry and the kids are doing well._

_How would you feel about catching up later? I actually have something I would very much like and need to talk to you about. If you feel up for it, of course._

_Let me know._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. You _really _need a phone_

Before she replied, she read the one with cursive but obviously masculine writing on it.

_Hi Ginny,_

_Sorry I haven't been writing much lately, you know how stressed I've been. You know, it would be much easier to maintain contact if you finally got yourself a darn phone – if a former pure-blood bigot like _me_ can accept the advantages, then _you_ should have been using one even before they became the Wizarding world's number one form of communication._

_I have a problem, and I really need to talk to _you _about it. You know I can't really go to Blaise about anything serious, and Theo is probably not the best choice for this matter._

_Come over whenever, if you can, I won't be sleeping anymore anyway._

_Love,_

_Draco_

For a second she allowed herself to grin at her two friends and how similar their letters sounded, although their different characters definitely seeped through.

And then she realized _how similar their letters sounded, _and frowned. She would like to think that didn't mean anything, but her intuition was off the charts when she was pregnant, and something was telling her their problems had something to do with the other. She loved both of them dearly, although naturally, it had taken her ages to warm up to Draco, and she knew many people would disapprove of her friendship with the man – including immediate family, and she didn't feel like fighting them with everything going down with Hermione and Ron first and now Pansy and Percy.

After telling Hermione to come to her place for breakfast as soon as she got the message and Draco that she would be over in the afternoon, she got up to wake up her angelic beasts.

* * *

30 minutes later, Hermione walked into the kitchen of the Potter home and spotted her best friend pointing her wand at a frying pan so it tipped over and spilled the scrambled eggs on a plate.

"Hey Ginny!", she said a little too enthusiastically when she also noticed the tiny baby bump the ginger was sporting. She couldn't help herself though, and that was also a point of concern for her; she had initially never been incredibly fond of the idea of bringing children into the world, but ever since she started her sessions with Scorpius, she could feel her desire for children flaring. True, the boy never said anything, but his eyes would lit up and his mouth stretch into the widest, most adorable grins that did nothing but warm her heart. It was dangerous, getting attached at all, and even more so when the father of her patient was an insufferable, arrogant, simply _mean _and gorgeous arse.

"_Wait, what?"_, she thought. "_Where did that come from?"_ Although deep down, she knew exactly where it came from – the truth of the words.

"Hey Hermione, good morning! Help yourself, would you like some tea?", Ginny asked cheerfully. Her happiness infected Hermione immensely and she grinned.

"Yes please, thank you. And thank you for having me... Where are the kids?"

The redhead placed a cup of strong Earl Grey in front of her. "Outside playing Quidditch with Harry. Thank God for Saturdays. Now, what's wrong? And no beating around the bush, please." Hermione nodded, took a deep breath and considered what and how much she would share and her wording and...

She was over-thinking. She should just come straight out and say it.

"Ginny, I think I like Draco Malfoy."

* * *

Ginny apparated right to the patio adjacent to Draco's room, again astounded by the fact that he had altered the barriers around the Manor to let her pass through. It spoke of an inordinate amount of trust that she had never thought a Malfoy would have for her, or vice versa. She thought back to her conversation with Hermione that morning while waiting for him to open the door for her. The redhead was surprised she hadn't been more surprised, she simply sighed and allowed Hermione to get everything off her chest; how she had needed to meet him essentially at least once a week because of his son (followed by a near-panic attack for divulging that piece of information), how he was still harsh and sarcastic but that she apparently kind of enjoyed their banter, how she thought she noticed a different side to him, how complicated it was and then that it all didn't matter because he would never like her back anyway (and in that instant she sounded like her 16-year-old self again). After that, she apologized for "unloading on her" and immediately left without letting Ginny get a word in.

So now, the soon-to-be mother of three was waiting for the patio door to open, and when it did, she was pulled inside without a second's hesitation by a harried-looking Draco Malfoy who didn't greet her, didn't let her say anything before he blurted out:

"I think I like Hermione Granger."

Ginny sighed again, sat on the couch and got ready to hear more or less the same story that Hermione had given her this morning.

* * *

**Sooo yeah. I was busy AND plagued by writer's block, so that's why this took so long. Good news though, I'm dropping out of college! Well, not exactly. I was studying something I didn't enjoy at all, business and money really isn't my thing, so now I'm applying to get a teacher's degree or if I'm lucky major in Psychology! Yay me? :)** **So that means, providing my writer's block doesn't come back, I'll actually be able to update much quicker now! Hoooraay!**

**Oh and, more Dramione interaction in the next chapter - pwomise!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'll stop apologizing for delays, I'll update whenever I can and I hope that's enough for you. I wanted this one to be longer, but as I was writing I felt this was a good place to end Chapter 12. I have 13 half-written already; expect it by late Friday night or early Saturday morning. :)**

**Also, I'm sorry I haven't replied to reviews yet, I will get to it tomorrow, but it is really late here and I have an early morning. But for now, a great big THANK YOU bear hug to everyone who took the time to leave me such nice comments! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you.**

**Enjoy! :)**

* * *

"It can't be. I am so serious right now, Ginny," Draco snapped when he noticed the tiny smirk on the redheads face.

"By all means, go on. Although I'm quite sure I know your reasoning as to why it's such a horrible thing. And it's something along the lines of, _"she's GRANGER!", _right?" The smirk grew wider and Draco found himself reconsidering his policy on not hexing women for a second. Part of him knew she was right, but the much bigger part of him refused to acknowledge the truth behind her words. And if he voiced the, admittedly less than intelligent or reasonable, motives for his hesitancy aloud often enough, maybe that tiny part in the very dark back of his brain would shut up, too.

"That's part of it," he began speaking, his words accompanied by an impressive eye-roll from Ginny, but he didn't let it defer him. "And that's horrible because Hermione Granger is a horrible person. First of all, she has her head stuck up her arse, and probably a stick alongside it. She thinks she's so much better than everyone around her, and her prissy holier-than-thou attitude just adds to her list of lack-of-charms. In school, she thought there was no one who could best her and that she was some kind of Whiz Kid, because she knew how to learn a book by heart and never had a semblance of a life. Not to mention her stupid hair and stupid face and clothes," he added the last part in a quiet mutter, knowing it was a lie even as the sentence was forming on the tip of his tongue. What he was feeling was, after all, probably nothing more than an attraction, not necessarily an exceptionally strong one, but stronger than he had known for quite some time.

Ginny gave a theatrical yawn, absent-mindedly caressing her baby-bump and wondering when she signed up to be the mother of 5 instead of 2 and a half children. Her friends were ridiculous. A 27-year-old man with an 8-year-old son should not be so childish and still judge people based on what he knew of them in school; especially since what he thought he knew wasn't even true back then, either. And a woman of 28 years should _not _flit back and forth between denying her crush, accepting and explaining it, and let herself be ruled by stupid insecurities.

* * *

"_You WHAT?!" Ginny asked, astounded by the unexpected revelation._

"_You know, _like_ is maybe bit strong. He is an insufferable fool, after all. Attracted, maybe? No, that can't be right, either, I don't feel attracted by looks alone, and he isn't even that good-looking. Nevermind, forget I said anything, I was probably just projecting, now that I think about it... And even if it was real, I mean, I'm rarely challenged and he challenges me, you know? That's probably it, I haven't met anyone in a while with whom I could hold a decent conversation and who didn't feel some strange kind of hero-worship towards me. But who am I kidding, anyway? It's not like there's any hope, I'm not exactly his calibre of woman, I mean have you _seen _Astoria? She was beauty personified, and I'm sure the women he's interested in are just as stunning and I'm just old ugly annoying Hermione Granger. Not that it matters, since I don't _really _have feelings for him...", Hermione rambled in reply, barely breathing in between sentences._

Needless to say, Ginny had stopped listening at that point back then and was now blocking out everything Draco was saying, a glazed look taking over her eyes as she questioned her decision to befriend the two of them.

* * *

Thursday, 1:55pm. Hermione was fidgeting in her seat, waiting for that familiar knock on the door; a sound which would this time be accompanied by the pounding her racing heart caused in her ears. Her fingers were trembling, her breathing almost imperceptibly shallower than usual, the heel of her right shoe was clicking against her left shin and the armchair made tiny squeaking sounds as if in protest to her slight bouncing.

Then it came, that half-dreaded, half-anticipated knock, the click of a door, and two figures stood illuminated from the big window in her office. She was determined not to honour Malfoy Sr.'s presence and only focus on the little boy who was hanging onto his father's hand by their intertwined pinkies, but her eyes and the following blood-rush to her cheeks had a different idea. After her dream, she couldn't deny how strikingly handsome the blonde had become, but annoyance crept into her heart when she considered her obvious flush and the tell-tale sign that averting her eyes immediately was. In order to escape the awkwardness, she stood up and smiled brightly in greeting. It wasn't even fake when her gaze landed on Scorpius.

"Hello there, little man. Are you ready for today? Do you want some hot chocolate again?"

An eager nod followed her words and her smile grew fonder at the sight.

"I'll pick you up as usual, son," Malfoy mumbled and the brunette looked up from where she had been conjuring a steaming mug. Their eyes met for a split-second and... huh. Was that the smallest of pink tinges developing on his high cheekbones? Hermione frowned. Probably her imagination, or maybe he was cold.

When she heard the jarring sound of the other armchair being conquered, her focus came back.

"So, another story today?" Scorpius' grin threatened to split his face at her words. She hummed in an exaggerated manner, having already decided on what she would tell him today.

It was going to be good.

"So, you already know your daddy wasn't the nicest back in school... But there was this one time in 3rd year, he was really mean... Harry, Ron and me have a friend named Hagrid. He is the gamekeeper at Hogwarts, when you go there in a few years you will meet him. He's sort of scary-looking at first sight and his accent is kind of heavy, but he's just like a huge teddy bear. Just don't try his rock cakes."

She paused to gauge the boy's reaction and found him staring at her intently with his face held up by his hands, his elbows resting on the table between them, obviously already enthralled. So she continued.

"He became the Care for Magical Creatures teacher that year, and in our first lesson, which your dad also attended, he taught us about Hippogriffs. Do you know what those are?" Another nod. "Alright, so there was this one in particular, Buckbeak, and he took to my friend Harry. It was a big deal, you see, because you have to be very polite to a Hippogriff and even then there is no guarantee it won't attack you." If she progressively hushed and darkened her voice to make Scorpius even more curious, that was not her fault. "Then your dad got jealous and tried to make Buckbeak like him, but he called him a mean name, and Buckbeak attacked him..." The blonde boy gasped, his eyes wide, but there was no trace of fear in them. Hermione smiled reassuringly and glossed over the next part of the story as well as she could, not wanting to badmouth Malfoy... too much.

"...and then, I snapped. So I went up to him and I pushed my wand against his chest and yelled at him, and when I let go, he just ran away. I later learned he hurried to the bathroom because I scared him so much he had to pee. Can you imagine your dad as he is now doing that?" So she had an obligation to be good role model, okay? The kid didn't need to know she had punched his father...

She laughed along with him as he pictured the scene, mostly at his cuteness. And then...

"That was really funny, 'Mione."

The voice that had just said those words wasn't one she had heard before. It was a little squeaky and high, but with those unmistakable undertones of "little boy". It also sounded very sweet, and - her professional side declared - like accomplishment.

But when the body the voice belonged to started shaking violently in front of her eyes which, she now realized, had been staring for a little too long, none of that mattered. All she could think of was hurrying to his side and hugging him close, trying to sooth him and somehow hold the overwhelmed 8-year-old together as he fell apart.

* * *

**Review or Scorpius will never talk to Hermione again!**

**JK, but seriously, reviews are appreciated. :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**I broke my rule and wrote despite having writer's block, so I hope this doesn't suck too much. Lengthier A/N coming at the end, so you might want to read that. I hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

After the initial surge of heart-pace-quickening and immobilizing panic that she allowed to cloud her mind for a split-second only, the part of her brain which had come up with the plan to escape a high-security building on a blind dragon's back kicked in. Only this time, Hermione was well-equipped with years of training and experience and she would not let her unprofessional care for the boy in her arms get in the way of a moment which needed pure clarity on her part.

"Okay, Scorp, look at me, please? Just look at me. It's alright, dear. Just look into my eyes, okay?"

The boy didn't respond other than with even more severe shaking and sobbing. His breathing was becoming shallower as he desperately gulped for air.

"Okay, listen to my breathing. Try to match it with yours, okay?" She waited for a nod or any sign that he had heard her, but nothing came. Then she proceeded to do the exercises in hopes that he'd notice and maybe go along with them, but again, there was no reaction. He was trapped in his own horror of a world. Her heart clenched at the sight and sounds he emitted, and she was at a loss of what to do.

_Get a grip on yourself, Granger._

It was that last word that ran through her mind which gave her an idea. Rationality and just common sense told her it wouldn't work and that it was utterly stupid, but Scorpius seemed to be struggling more and more with every inhalation.

"Daddy."

There was a second's pause before the sharp gasps continued.

"Think about your Daddy, Scorpius. What would he do if he were here?"

It was barely noticeable, but the trembling slowed a little.

"That's right, picture him. Imagine him right before your eyes and now tell me, what would he say?"

There were a couple of moments when nothing happened and Hermione was about to fall into a pit of despair again, and then...

"D-d-dad w-wou-would..."

"Yes?" If Hermione could see her own eyes, she was sure there would be a ridiculous amount of hope reflected in them.

"He'd h-h-hold me a-and t-tell me th-tha..." The little boy didn't finish his sentence in favour of taking a deep choke of much-needed air.

"That...?"

"That it's going to be okay, and that he loves me and Mummy did, too," he barely whispered before his eyes filled with tears again and he started wailing.

Hermione held him to her chest and stroked his hair, whispering a mantra of "it's okay"s and "it's going to be fine"s into the blond head of hair.

She didn't know how much time passed, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes and Scorpius was actually calming down, his loud cries subsiding into soft sobs, when the door flung upon to reveal a very angry Malfoy Sr.

"What happened? What did you do?", he asked the startled woman, venom lacing his voice as he took in the scene he'd obviously misinterpreted.

Scorpius' head shot up when he heard his father speak, followed by his body as he stumbled his way over to him on unsure legs.

"D-da-daddy!" Throwing himself into the man's waiting arms, he buried his face in his neck and continued crying softly.

"I didn't _do _anything. I got him to talk and he panicked," Hermione defended herself in a hushed voice once she shook herself out of the stupor Malfoy's words and the scene before her put her in.

"Bollocks! You did something to upset him!"

"I swear, I-" Her sentence was cut off when she noticed the volume of Scorpius' sobs started to increase again.

"Look, why don't you take him home, I can give you a Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep Potion if you need them, and then you can come back and we'll talk like adults."

"I'm not coming back and leaving him alone, no matter how many potions he's taken. You can come to the Manor with us."

Hermione just looked at him, wide-eyed, and swallowed hard. He couldn't have forgotten, could he? The regret and sympathy in his eyes had been the only thing that helped her hold onto her sanity...

_Don't go there, don't think about it. Not now._

So she swallowed hard, put on a face which displayed more bravery than she felt, and nodded, with a simple, "Wait outside, I'll get the potions," accompanying the gesture.

She flew by her secretary's desk and into a room where they kept all the medical supplies. Once there, she made sure to lock the door and unlock a cabinet which appeared to be a simple air-vent to Muggles. She took out the vials in question and walked as fast as possible out into the cold air, into the well-hidden back-alley where Malfoy was waiting, with Scorpius still in his arms and his face hidden in his father's shoulder.

"Got everything?", Malfoy asked, sounding strained and his posture tense. He was obviously still very angry, but tried his best to keep his composure in order to not startle his tiny carbon-copy any more.

Another wordless nod, then taking a firm grip on the man's arm, and a spin, followed by the well-known feeling of being compressed and then inflated again, and Hermione was standing on an unfamiliar patio of a very familiar mansion. Hermione sincerely hoped her expression wouldn't betray her unease; this was an emergency, she was a professional, and she needed to act like one. But if she was right in her recognition of the sympathy that flitted across Malfoy's face for a second when he looked at hers, she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding anything.

"Let's get him inside," the blonde man said in a surprisingly gentle manner and they made their way through what she guessed was his, decidedly enormous, bedroom and to another one two doors down. It was decorated in what she supposed to be typical Wizard boy fashion; it was painted a light blue colour and moving posters of the start-up team of the Tornadoes were hung next to the bed. There was a huge book-shelf against one wall, a desk against another just below a big window with a white wrought-iron frame, and when Hermione looked up at the ceiling, she saw stars and planets and comets that she had seen in a little knick-knack store in Diagon Alley before, which she knew glowed in the dark in changing colours come night-time. There were toys, for example a miniature broom and astoundingly, a Muggle skateboard and a Batman action figure, strewn across the floor. It was beautiful.

However, she was broken out of her reverie when Malfoy sat on the bed with the boy still clinging to him, and gently pried his fingers away from his collar to lie him down.

"Shh, it's okay, Scorp," he cooed and looked at Hermione meaningfully. Understanding what he wanted, she withdrew the two vials from her purse and handed them to him.

"Now, panda-bear, I need you to take this potion, alright?" The boy looked up with wide eyes and shook his head.

"No, no potions, please!" he protested in a voice hoarse from crying.

"But they will make you better."

"No, please, don't make me, Daddy. I'll be good now, I promise," Scorpius sniffed, and Malfoy looked panicky for a second at the waterworks starting up again. Hermione decided it was time she at least tried to step in.

"How about some hot chocolate, then, huh little man?", she suggested. Moving next to Malfoy, she subtly extracted the vials from his hand again, her breath hitching when her fingertips made contact with his. They looked at each other and their surroundings were forgotten for a split-second. But now was not the time, and she returned her gaze to the child on the bed to see his lips moving in a barely audible "okay". She stumbled a little when she got up in her effort to keep the tiny bottles a secret, and left the room to conjure a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Then she proceeded to spike it with the potions, grateful that a recipe had been developed which kept them mostly tasteless.

When she returned, it was to the sight of Malfoy lying down next to his son, cuddling him with his fingers combing through his hair and softly singing to him. It was a heart-breaking and at the same time heart-warming picture to take in, and she smiled despite herself.

"Here you go, sweetheart," Hermione breathed to Scorpius and handed him the cup. He gulped it down in three mouthfuls, and immediately, his eyelids started drooping.

"I'm so tired," the boy mumbled and both adults looked amused at his adorableness.

"Then sleep, darling boy. You'll feel much better when you wake up," the brunette murmured adoringly.

Once he was sure his son was in a deep sleep, Malfoy got up and motioned to the door. That was to be expected, but what Hermione wasn't expecting was the eerie calm she suddenly felt instead of the anticipated nervousness. It was okay, though; no room she had been to looked remotely like the one she had been tortured in. There were signs of life scattered everywhere, it wasn't neat and orderly in a way which conveyed a quiet and deathly atmosphere.

As soon as the door of Malfoy's bedroom closed behind them, though, she would regret that train of thought.

"What. The. HELL. HAPPENED!", he roared, fire dancing in those stormy grey orbs.

Yes, quiet would have been better. Wincing just has no dignity at all.

"I told him something funny. He commented on the funniness of my story. He, understandably, freaked out," she tried to explain calmly.

"Why don't I believe you? You did something, I know you did!"

"Get it through your head! I was _doing my job_! I _succeeded _in doing my job! You didn't think he would just start talking and live happily-ever-after, did you?", she sneered, not fazed at all by the evil glare directed at her. Malfoy noticed this and stepped closer, making her unconsciously back into the wall behind her.

"Just tell me what you did, you old bat!"

"Oh my God, you _twit_, you air-headed bugger, I didn't do_ anything_! He has selective mutism caused by the traumatic death of his mother; what did you think would happen?", she yelled, standing on her toes in a futile attempt to lessen his height advantage. He only growled and strode even further into her personal space, resting his hands above her shoulders and therefore effectively cutting off her escape route.

"I thought you'd make him better," he snarled. His face was so close to hers now, she could have counted every lash around those steely eyes, the pupils dilated so only a tiny ring of the silver iris was visible. But the Gryffindor in her refused to be scared.

"I am! This is a huge step but there is still so much to work through, why won't you get that through your thi-"

The rest of her words was cut off by a pair of firm lips on hers.

* * *

**FINALLY! I always say 13 is a lucky number. Although, if I were you, I wouldn't get too comfortable just yet.**

**Anyway, two things.**

**1) ****anthraquinblue**** pointed out that Draco and Hermione act juvenile when it comes to their feelings for the other. I wanted to again publicly thank you for the very maturely put and constructive criticism, but felt like I needed to point out to everyone that this is done on purpose, because the way I see Dramione, they would still be stuck at 13 or 14 when it comes to how they perceive the other.**

**2) ****buttercup88**** asked about Pansy. I will come back to her, and Theo, and the others, but Dramione urged me to get a move on with the two of them already and Scorp really, really wanted to speak. :)**

**No promises for when the next update will be. As soon as possible. And if you have any tips against writer's block, PLEASE, relay them to me.**


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